


The Breaking Down of Walls

by voiceless_terror



Series: TMA Whumptober [4]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Day Seven: Carrying, Gen, Jon Is Travel-Sized, Jon's Canonical Shitty Self Care, Season 1, Sickfic, Some Jon/Martin Pining, Tim and Jon Will Eventually Talk, Tim and Martin Get to Talk, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:35:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26876779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voiceless_terror/pseuds/voiceless_terror
Summary: For all his grumbling, he doesn’t think Jon actually minded it that much.He squeaked and protested when Tim threw him over a shoulder, but he went soft and pliant after about a minute of being carted around. He’s almost gotten used to being picked up and bodily moved out of the way by Tim instead of getting a simple ‘excuse me.’ Tim once caught him smiling after he’d been perched on the break room counter while Tim cleaned up a glass he shattered. It quickly morphed into a scowl on eye contact, though.Jon is sick and Tim is nostalgic for an easier time.
Relationships: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker
Series: TMA Whumptober [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952800
Comments: 45
Kudos: 385





	The Breaking Down of Walls

Jon was small. Portable. Travel-sized for convenience. Jon did not like this pointed out to him.

So Tim made it his job to point it out as often as possible. 

“Hey there lil’ guy!” was his favorite greeting back in research and Jon would always return it with a furious glare and a grumbling, futile protest. See, Tim’s a tall guy. Of course everyone would seem small to him. But Jon was _genuinely_ small. Like, he has to jog to keep up if you have a brisk pace. Watching those little legs work overtime to catch up to him in the hallway was one of Tim’s greatest joys. The man was five foot and change, if the change was pennies on the dollar. Tim particularly liked to rest his elbow on his head; the afternoon silent-treatment it got him was well worth it.

For all his grumbling, he doesn’t think Jon actually minded it that much. 

He squeaked and protested when Tim threw him over a shoulder, but he went soft and pliant after about a minute of being carted around. He’s almost gotten used to being picked up and bodily moved out of the way by Tim instead of getting a simple ‘excuse me.’ Tim once caught him smiling after he’d been perched on the break room counter while Tim cleaned up a glass he shattered. It quickly morphed into a scowl on eye contact, though.

Tim believed he protested too much. Jon liked friends and company despite his prickly exterior. No one leaned into a touch like that if they didn’t want it. So Tim took the complaints with a grain of salt.

The dynamic changed when they moved down to the archives. Jon had distanced himself, locking his office door and trying to seem like a far more serious man than he was. Tim understood- with Elias breathing down their necks, anyone would be worried about professionalism. But it was wearing on Jon both physically and mentally. He was not very pleased with Tim’s moniker of ‘lil boss’ so he cut that out right quick. He looked tired and harried every day and was prone to snapping at the slightest of inconveniences- these days the inconvenience was more often than not Martin.

Poor Martin. He was the odd man out, the only one not to come out of research. Elias assigned him to the archives which put Jon immediately on guard. But Martin was a nice kid, just trying to scrape by like the rest of him. It wasn’t his fault his Latin was terrible and Jon was exacting. _Well, maybe he could work on the Latin._ But he brought them tea and asked about their day which was more kindness than anyone here had experienced in quite some time. He was working very, very hard at trying to break down Jon's walls. He brought him tea on the hour and tried to coax him out for lunch. He took every insult and rejection with a mask of politeness that Tim knows must have taken him some time to perfect. He let Martin do the mothering; Tim doesn’t know how to express his concern in a non-tactile fashion. 

Jon hadn’t been out of his office all morning. This was not unusual, not these days. Martin expressed his concern more than once and Tim decided to check up on him at the end of the day if he hadn’t come out- he’s knee deep in research and on a roll. Sasha’s out investigating a case and it’s only the three of them in the office. The clock neared three and Tim yawned; he really needed this weekend to come quick. 

“Tim!” he heard a strangled voice call. Martin. “Tim, can you come here please?” This couldn’t be anything good. He hurried out of his chair and made his way down the hallway to- you guessed it- Jon’s office.

“H-He won’t wake up!” Martin stuttered, hands hovering uselessly over Jon, who was currently collapsed in his office chair either snoozing or deeply unconscious. _Damn._ “I-I know he looked bad today but he told me to leave him alone so I did and now look at him!” 

Jon indeed didn’t look or sound well. His hair was out of its bun and in a tangled mess that hid most of his face, but what he could see was flushed a bright red. His breathing was labored, a slow and uneven wheeze. Tim immediately started making his way over. “Does he have a fever?”

“I think so,” Martin replied. “But I didn’t check. Didn’t know if he wanted me...touching him.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I think this is an exception.” Martin clearly wasn’t comfortable enough with the man to bully him just yet (Jon seemed to do most of the bullying nowadays). He needed a firmer hand when it came to taking care of himself and Tim and Sasha were usually the ones to give it. One hand to Jon’s forehead and he knew the man had worked himself sick, again. It’d been a while since this last occurred- it used to happen with some frequency back in research, at least until Tim and Sasha convinced him to take it easy. But they had been distant and it’s clear that Jon’s fallen back into old habits. Tim sighed, brushing a lock of Jon’s hair behind his ear. “What are we gonna do with you, hm?” he murmured softly, well-aware of Martin’s eyes on his back.

“I-I can set up the cot in the back!” Martin suggested, moving over to the door as if to do it immediately. “I can sleep on the break room couch, it’s surprisingly comfy.” Tim had forgotten that Martin had been living in the archives- _Christ, what has this place come to-_ but it was a Friday night and he didn’t want Jon here all weekend; he would likely just work himself into exhaustion yet again. So Tim made a decision.

“I’ll take him home. He’ll recover better if he’s out of here,” He looked at Martin critically. He wasn’t in the best of shape either. There were dark circles under his eyes and he couldn’t be getting great sleep cooped up in the basement like this. ‘Why don’t you come too?” Martin's eyes widened in surprise. “You could do with a good night’s sleep and my living room couch is legendary.”

“I couldn’t-”

“Nope, I’ve already decided for you,” Tim gave him an easy grin, hoping to seal the deal. “Go get us a cab, will you? I didn’t drive in and we aren’t taking the tube.”

“O-Okay! If you’re s-sure.” 

“I’m always sure.” He threw in a wink for good measure and Martin was out the door. _Works every time._

Getting Jon out of the chair turned out to be tougher than expected. He was contorted around his desk; he’d clearly been in this position for quite some time. As gently as possible, he wound an arm around his knees and tilted Jon back until he fell against his chest and against his other arm. “There we go,” he mumbled even though he knew the man couldn’t hear. “Let’s get you home.” Jon felt incredibly warm in his arms and Tim’s worry increased; he hoped he had medicine back at his flat that hadn't expired. The man was even lighter than expected and Tim almost stumbled backward with how he overcompensated for his weight. _Another thing I’ll have to talk to him about._

Martin came back downstairs, his footsteps quick and loud on the tile. “Cab’s here- _oh.”_ He paused, staring down at Jon and blushing for some reason. Tim looked at him quizzically before gazing down to his arms- at some point Jon had nuzzled himself into his shoulder, one hand gripping his shirt in a tight little fist. He had to admit it was an adorable picture, but they didn’t have time for Martin’s crush right now. “I’ll just go and uh, grab my things then.”

They end up in the back of a cab, all three of them. It’s not particularly comfortable but they manage to sprawl Jon across the both of them, head still tucked into Tim’s shoulder and legs stretched out into Martin’s lap. Tim is only a little amused with Martin's awkward placement of his hands in an attempt to avoid touching Jon, though he ends up grabbing onto his legs to keep him in place about two minutes into the ride. They fell into a silence on the way, the only noise was Jon’s breathing which sounded more labored by the second.

“Is he- was he always like this?” Martin asked quietly, allowing himself one more glance at Jon. Martin’s face was still red, much to Tim’s amusement. “Working himself to death?”

“Never this bad,” Tim replied, running a hand through Jon’s hair. He remembered doing this back in research, back when it was okay to touch him. Is he taking advantage? Perhaps a little, but Jon looks like he needs it. “New job’s wearing him down, I think.”

“W-What was he like before?”

Tim paused. Frankly, he’s a bit unsure of what Martin’s looking for here. Jon’s always been Jon, but the promotion seems to have dialed up all of his worst habits past ten. Habits that Tim thought they’d put behind them. It’s not like Jon’s particularly changed- perhaps regressed was a better word. He’s rebuilding the walls that took him years to deconstruct. _He’s scared,_ Tim realized. _Don’t know why it took me this long to see it._

“He’s actually quite soft,” Tim stuck to the present tense. Jon’s not lost, after all. Just a little in his head. “Once you get to know him. We were- we _are_ friends. He’ll get used to you,” Martin deserved a little reassurance. “Just gotta invest some time. Like you’re already doing.”

Martin went quiet. He didn’t seem convinced. 

“One time he sprained his ankle on the way into work,” Tim smiled, remembering the day from about a year ago. “Idiot thought it would be fine to walk around the library like nothing happened. You should’ve seen Sasha when she found out. Full of fury, that one. Never get on her bad side.” Sasha’s mother-hen instincts were even worse than Martin’s, though hers were much more intense and full of scolding. “Made a deal that if he was going to work he’d have to sit the fuck down. ‘Course Jon’s not going to do that- he may seem like he sits in his office all day, but I’m sure he’s actually pacing up a storm in there.” A fond smile down at the man in his arms. “So whenever he got up I hauled him on my back. Sasha has a picture somewhere. He was horribly embarrassed, of course, but I think he came around to the idea.” He nudged Martin in the side. “He secretly likes all of that fussing, I promise you.”

“He hides it well, then,” Martin rolled his eyes though he was smiling.

They got to Tim’s flat in a thankfully short period of time. “Make yourself at home,” he said to Martin as he opened the door with just a small adjustment of Jon. “I’m going to get this one settled in my room."

“Alright,” Martin ducked his head shyly, standing awkwardly in the middle of Tim’s living room. _He’ll warm up to it,_ Tim thought as he made his way to the bedroom. He’s glad he decided to clean the place a couple of nights ago- Jon deserved some freshly-laundered sheets and clean air. _Better than that stuffy basement._

Jon blinked his eyes open as Tim gently laid him down on the bed. They were watery and fever-bright, his brow furrowed in confusion. "T-Tim?” he croaked. _Yikes, that sounds bad._ “S’at you?”

“There you are, lil’ guy,” Tim murmured, wondering if Jon could even hear him. He propped a pillow up beside him and sat on the other side of the bed, tucking Jon against his side. “Took you back to my place. You’ve done a number on yourself, y’know.” Jon groaned and leaned into his shoulder, clearly looking for comfort in his vulnerable state. Tim would give it to him. “When you’re better we're going to have a _talk,_ young man.”

“Hate talks,” Jon whined, rubbing his face into Tim’s shoulder. _Ah, so we’ve reached the brat stage of illness. Right on time._ “Just gonna sleep. Gotta...got work to do.”

“No you don’t,” Tim replied and squeezed Jon’s shoulders. “You’re going to take some medicine and eat. Have a nap. And maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you watch me play video games. But _only_ if you’re good.” He paused, remembering Martin in his living room. “Also, Martin’s here. Just so you know.”

Jon didn’t seem to have any complaints about that. _Huh. Maybe he doesn’t mind him as much as I thought._ “S’he gonna make tea? Want tea.” Tim couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up in his throat.

“Yeah,” he promised. “He’ll make us some tea. Maybe cook us breakfast in the morning. The whole sha-bang. Gotta earn his keep.”

“I think Martin can make good eggs.” _Yeah, Jon’s not going to remember this conversation._

“How can you tell?” He humored him anyway.

“It’s his face,” Jon’s tone left no room for argument. “I can jus’ tell from his face.” _Alright then, Jon._

The man was starting to doze off and Tim took this as his cue to grab some medicine while he still had the chance. He carefully maneuvered around Jon, making sure he was properly tucked in the bed and not in danger of falling off. “Be right back, okay?” No answer, but Tim hadn’t really expected one.

He took a second to look down at his friend, soft and familiar in his bed. _This weekend will be good,_ Tim decided. _For all of us._ It took him years to break down Jon’s walls and he was willing to do it again. Because Jon was his friend.

And Tim couldn’t lose anyone else.

**Author's Note:**

> For Whumptober day Seven: Carrying. Knew I was gonna do this one as soon as I saw it, and of course if you know me you know I'm going to be on my 'Tim and Jon are friends' train with some Martin added in for spice and flavor. Of course gotta continue my 'Jon is smol' propaganda. It's the gay agenda at work, my friends.
> 
> I think I want to do the rest of the weeks prompts because I'm a masochist, but they might be coming a little late. You can reach me @voiceless-terror for prompts and asks.
> 
> Let me know how you liked. Thanks for reading!!
> 
> Edit: The wonderful janekfan did some EXCELLENT art of Jon and Tim for this and I had to share!! Please check it out:
> 
> https://janekfan.tumblr.com/post/631550469064556544/from-voiceless-terrors-fic-the-breaking-down-of


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